


Too Close for Comfort

by cimmaninroll



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimmaninroll/pseuds/cimmaninroll
Summary: "Pidge had liked Lance for a long, long time - practically since the day they met. She adored how absurdly goofy he was. Everything he did made her heart smile, though she was careful not to let it show. They had been friends for years, and she’d managed to keep her feelings a secret all that time. Now it had been almost two weeks stuck in his house, and it was getting harder and harder for her. Being in such close proximity to him for this long only made her feelings grow stronger."
Relationships: Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 20
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Toocool2btrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toocool2btrue/gifts).



> Please note that this work contains some mild language. If this kind of content doesn't perturb you, read on. If it does, I'd encourage you to find something else to read.

Pidge was living with Lance. 

Oh my God, she was living with Lance! How did this happen? She knew how it happened, of course. She had come down to Lance’s place for the weekend. They hadn’t seen each other in a long time, what with them living so far apart, so Pidge wanted to take a weekend off to see him. What she didn’t anticipate was the outbreak of a new virus, COVID-19. It was supposed to be possibly fatal, and could be spread in many different ways. Lance’s county went on high alert; no one was allowed to travel in or out. Which meant Pidge couldn’t go home. 

So she was stuck at Lance’s house until the travel advisory was over. And she hated it. It made hiding her feelings a thousand times harder. 

Pidge had liked Lance for a long, long time - practically since the day they met. She adored how absurdly goofy he was. Everything he did made her heart smile, though she was careful not to let it show. They had been friends for years, and she’d managed to keep her feelings a secret all that time. Now it had been almost two weeks stuck in his house, and it was getting harder and harder for her. Being in such close proximity to him for this long only made her feelings grow stronger. She had almost slipped up so many times already. Now she was hiding in the bathroom, where he couldn’t see her quietly freak out. She ran her fingers through her wild hair. She didn’t know how much longer she could do this. 

There was a knock on the door, and Pidge jumped. “Pidge,” she heard Lance’s concerned voice from the other side of the door, “You okay? You’ve been in there for nearly twenty minutes!”

Had it really been that long? “Y-yeah,” she said. “I’m fine. Thanks. I’m just very constipated.” She paused. Did she really just say that? _Nice job, Pidge._ “You don’t wanna know.” There was a moment of silence.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Don’t die in there.” She heard his footsteps move away from the door. She let out a deep sigh. After a few minutes, she flushed the toilet, which she hadn’t used, and washed her hands. Then she opened the door and walked out. 

Lance was in the kitchen, bent over a steaming pan. He looked over at her and smiled. “Oh, you’re alive. Good. I made dinner.” 

She inhaled deeply through her nose, smelling, tomato sauce, ricotta, and chicken. She let out a satisfied sigh. “I know that smell. Manicotti,” she said as she made her way to the dinner table. “You better have made it right. I will not eat half-assed Italian.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said proudly. “I did.” He got out two plates and laid a large stuffed noodle on each. Then he turned around, with a goofy grin on his face. _Oh no,_ Pidge thought. _That’s the face he makes when he’s about to do something stupid and ridiculous and totally adorable._

And she wasn’t wrong. “Ma chere Mademoiselle,” Lance began in a fake French accent, slowly walking towards the table. “It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight.” Pidge made a feeble attempt not to smile. “And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair, as the dining room proudly presents…” and he laid one of the plates down in front of the chair nearest to her. “Your dinner!” Pidge rolled her eyes in an attempt to seem like she wasn’t thoroughly enjoying this. “I’d ask you to be my guest,” Lance said in his normal voice, “but you’ve been my guest for the last two weeks.”

 _You’d better shut up before I try to kiss you,_ Pidge thought. “Hm. Well I’m still putting your service to the test,” she said with a smirk, sitting down. “Sorry you’re stuck with me for so long, by the way.”

“Nonsense,” Lance said, waving a hand as he took his own seat. “I’m more than happy to have you here.”

More than happy? What did that mean? Pidge started to sweat a little under her sweater. What did _more than happy_ mean? She could understand if he was just plain happy to have her around. Friends were happy to hang out with friends. But what was _more_ than happy? She decided she was reading too much into it, and tried her best not to give it any further thought. She took a bite of her manicotti. “Oh my God,” she said with her mouth full, closing her eyes and savouring the flavour. “This is amazing.”

Lance smirked. “Told you I made it right.”

“ _Hell yes_ you did,” she said. “I hope the man I marry cooks this good.” _Dear Lord, get yourself together, Katie. Do_ not _compare him to your future husband!_ Was that her imagination or did Lance just _blush?_ She was thoroughly uncomfortable now. 

There was a silence that may have only been a few seconds, but to Pidge felt like five minutes. Then Lance spoke again. “Speaking of said man, any suitors you want to tell me about?” He waggled his eyebrows as he said this, and Pidge froze. “I’ll take your silence and lack of movement as a yes,” he said. 

“What? I- no,” Pidge stuttered, panicking. “It's just you… you've never asked anything like that." She shifted in her seat. "Why, um, why do you wanna know?"

"I'm just curious. And if there is, maybe I can help you."

"No, there’s not- no. There’s no one.”

“Pidge, I know you,” he said. “I know when you’re lying. So, tell me. Who is it?”

 _Crap._ She knew Lance knew her too well to believe any lie she told him, and she knew he'd keep pressing until she told him. 

"Well," she said, "there is this guy. We've known each other for a long time. Six years, I think."

She looked at Lance, who was listening intently. "Really? And how long have you liked him?"

Pidge was again startled. Why was he taking such a sudden interest in this? "Well… almost six years, actually." She paused. "He's… I mean, he's amazing. He always cheers me up when I'm in a bad mood. He makes me laugh. He's always been there for me when I needed someone. He even curls up with me on the couch sometimes." Which made her heart pound every time. "And he is such a dork. He understands all my jokes and subtle references when _no one_ else does."

"Is he cute?" Lance interjected. 

"Adorable," she replied, smiling now. "Totally gorgeous. He has the most amazing smile." She took another bite. "And he cooks."

"Wow," he said. "This guy sounds pretty great."

 _Are you kidding me? How oblivious are you? I just described you in great detail,_ how _are you not picking up on this?_ "Yeah, he is."

"Have you said anything to him?"

"What? No. No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" he inquired, taking a bite of his manicotti. "Tell him how you feel. If he's half the guy you say he is, you need to catch him before it's too late."

"Because," Pidge said, hesitating. "I really like this guy. What if he doesn't like me back?"

"What if he does?" 

"But what if he _doesn't?_ Then I'll know I don't have a chance, and he'll feel bad for not liking me back, even though that's completely irrational, and he might _say_ he likes me even though he doesn't just to spare my feelings. I don't want to go out with him if he doesn't want to go out with me."

"So you'd rather spend the rest of your life just _wondering_ if he likes you, never making a move and letting yourself be miserable?"

"Well… no, but I still can't tell him."

"Why?"

"Because I'm scared of what he'll say."

"You can't hide it from him forever. One way or another it will come out. I mean, what’s the worst that could really happen from you telling him?"

“He takes pity on me and says he likes me even though he doesn’t just because he knows I want him to, then we’re both stuck in a one-sided relationship. Or, he hates me for spending our entire friendship crushing on him, I lose him as a friend and he never talks to me again.”

“I- okay, that seems very unlikely.”

"I know," she said with a sigh. "I just can't do it."

"Look at it this way," said Lance. "Say you do tell him. If he doesn't like you, then that sucks, but at least you know now. You don't have to waste any more time obsessing over him. And if he _does_ , then you'll both be happy together. Either way, you're no longer making yourself suffer."

Pidge thought about this. Lance was right. He was saying all this without knowing _he_ was the guy she was crushing on, of course. Nevertheless, the advice was still valid. She wasn’t going to get anywhere by hoping for him to notice her. She knew she had to tell him, but she just didn’t know if she could. She’d tried before, and couldn’t ever get the words out. She hoped she’d be able to do it now; she couldn’t spend however much longer this quarantine would last around Lance without telling him, and keep her sanity. 

“Yeah,” she said finally. “You’re right. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell him. I’ve tried, but nothing comes out.”

“It’s hard,” Lance said. While Pidge was thinking, he had eaten halfway through his dinner. “But you can do it. It’s just like jumping into a cold pool. Deep breath, then take the plunge.”

“What are you now,” Pidge laughed, “some kind of love expert?” 

“Maybe. I mean, uh… no. But I have friends who are.”

She chuckled. There was that dorkiness she adored. She would tell him tomorrow, she decided. No matter how scared she got, she would tell him how she felt. She finished her dinner and put her plate and fork in the sink. “‘Night, Lance.”

“Goodnight, Pidgeon,” Lance said. Pidge cursed him silently for using her nickname, then slumped off to bed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Lance couldn’t sleep. He had been lying awake in bed for nearly four hours. He felt exhausted, but sleep just wouldn’t come. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Pidge had said at dinner that night. She liked someone. Like, really liked him, from the way she had described him. Lance had told her to let this guy know how she felt, and she had agreed. But what he hoped would happen next didn’t happen. She didn’t say anything else to him. Instead, then she got up and went to bed. 

Which meant Lance wasn’t the guy she liked. 

He sighed, his head a confusing swirl of emotions. If it had been Lance, she would’ve told him right then and there. He had really hoped she would. But she didn’t. She had a crush on someone, and it wasn’t him. _Of course it’s not,_ he thought to himself. _I was stupid to think I had a chance with her._

He stared up at the ceiling. He’d liked Pidge since the day they met. He was captivated the first time he laid eyes on her. She was adorable. Gorgeous. From her light auburn hair that sat in a wild, tangled heap on her head, to her brown eyes that lay behind her wire-frame circular glasses. And the more time he spent around her, the more he adored her. She was smart. Like, really smart. She was determined. She was funny and sarcastic. He loved everything about her, even the things that other people found annoying. He had thought she was a boy back then, of course. It came as a shock when he found out she was a girl, but it didn't matter to him. He liked Pidge, boy or girl. He never got used to calling her Katie; she was still always Pidge to him. After all, Pidge was her name when he met her, when he fell for her. He wanted desperately to tell her, but every time he tried, he ended up doing something stupid that made him lose all his confidence. It had happened more times than he could count. But there was no use trying now. She liked someone else. As much as he wanted to be with her, he wasn’t about to get in the way of her happiness. 

Suddenly, he heard the door to the guest room creak open, and shuffling feet passed his door. Pidge was awake. He heaved another sigh. Two weeks ago, he was ecstatic about Pidge being over. It meant they could spend a lot of time together, which Lance always loved. But now, he was stuck in a house with a girl who didn’t like him back. Worse, he was stuck in a house with a girl who didn’t like him back and wasn’t even aware that there was liking to be reciprocated. And he didn’t have a clue when the quarantine would be over. As far as he knew, they could be trapped with each other for months. He groaned, sitting up in bed. He was tired, but he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, so he might as well get up. 

He walked into the kitchen and found the refrigerator door open. Pidge’s head popped up from behind it. 

“Lance!” she practically screeched. “Wha- what are you doing up so early?”

He froze for a moment at the sight of her. “Can’t sleep,” he said finally. 

“I uhm, I was just- well, I mean I was-”

“I really don’t care, Pidge. Help yourself.”

She sighed with relief and emerged from behind the door with a large bottle of amber translucent liquid. She was wearing black leggings and her favourite white and green sweater, which wasn’t quite so big on her anymore, though she hadn’t actually grown more than an inch or two after five years. She looked older than she did back when they were cadets at the Garrison, but somehow still the same. Her face was less round now, but she had the same big brown eyes, the same beautiful smile. She really had aged phenomenally. She spent more time fixing her hair these days, but in the morning it was a disheveled mess from all her tossing and turning, and some days it looked almost exactly the same as it always did all those years ago. This was one of those days. Her ‘wings’ returned on both sides of her head (how the heck those formed naturally, Lance had no idea), and her unruly bangs hung low around her face. Lance always thought she looked most beautiful like this. It was how she had looked the day they met, which Lance had decided was the greatest and most significant day of his life - even more than the day he became a Paladin of Voltron. Sure, he’d piloted an ancient magical lion, he’d saved the universe multiple times, and it had certainly brought Pidge and him closer together, fighting on the front lines alongside each other. Even so, none of it was as amazing, thrilling, and breathtaking as spending time with the girl who stood in front of him now. They wouldn’t even have found Voltron if not for Pidge. She was stunning not only visually, but intellectually. She was just completely wonderful in every way. He suddenly became aware of the fact that he had been holding his breath, and quickly let it out with a sigh. 

He walked over to the kitchen island, leaning on it casually. At least he hoped it looked casual. “What are _you_ doing up so early?” Lance asked. 

Pidge got a glass from the cabinet and poured a generous amount of the liquid into it. “Drinking my problems away,” she replied, taking a swig of the drink. 

“Ah, how sweet to drown one’s sorrows in… apple juice,” Lance said, picking up the bottle to read the label. “Interesting choice.”

“The last time I drank booze, it didn’t end well,” she said. 

Lance laughed. “Yeah, I remember,” he said, getting his own glass and pouring himself some juice. “You were a disaster. I had to take you home.”

“Yep. If I remember right, I was kinda all over you.”

“A little. Drunk Pidge is very affectionate, apparently.” He took a drink. “And also very inarticulate. It was kind of hilarious, actually. I could barely understand what you were saying.”

Pidge scoffed. “Well yeah, alcohol tends to do that, Lance.”

“You were all, ‘Your eyes are _preeetty._ I wish I had eyes like yours,’” Lance mocked, imitating an inebriated Pidge. 

“Screw you, Lance,” she said, taking another drink. 

“No thanks. You’re not my type, Pidge, no-” 

Lance stopped the sentence dead in its tracks. Did he really just say that? Why did he say that? He looked at Pidge, who was frozen mid-drink. _Oh, no._ “No, I mean you are. I just- I mean you’re not! I mean- oh, quiznack.”

Pidge set her glass down on the island and gulped. “So… I am or I’m not?” She sounded nervous. 

_Crap._ Lance started to panic. “You um, you arrrrr… re’nt? You aren’t? You are. Or… are you?” _WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?! ABORT! ABORT!_

“Well, which one is it?” Pidge asked, sounding annoyed now. 

_Crap crap crap crap. WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay?_ “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” _WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!_

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Uuuhh… No estoy seguro de qué decir aquí.” The panic started to show through in his voice. _Bad bad very bad help dying._

She sighed. “I don’t speak Spanish, Lance.”

“Lo sé. Empiezo a hablar español cuando estoy en modo de pánico.” He felt himself start to sweat. _Ew sweat wet gross bad very bad help._

“I can’t understand you. Speak English.”

“Realmente me gustas, pero no sé cómo decírtelo. Por favor, ayúdame.”

“Lance!” There was something new in her voice now. It sounded like anxiety… panic? Why was _she_ panicking?!

“I don’t know what to say. What do you want me to _say?_ ” His voice cracked horribly as he said this, which only made him panic more. 

“I want you to tell me the truth,” Pidge said, her own voice shaking slightly. 

“T-the truth?” Lance looked around frantically, as if something in the room would help him. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t find anything. Suddenly he remembered what he had told Pidge last night. _You can't hide it from him forever. One way or another it will come out._ He stopped. What was he doing? He had to tell her. Even if she did like someone else, she had a right to know. _You’re right, Lance,_ he thought. _Deep breath, then take the plunge._

“Well?” Pidge said, looking at him expectantly. 

_Okay. Here I go._ He took a deep breath. “The truth is… I like you, Pidge.”

Her expression changed immediately. Her eyes went wide, and her entire face went red. She looked… well, Lance wasn’t sure what the expression was. Surprise, fright, maybe? She didn’t say anything, so he continued. “I really like you. I have since we met. The moment I laid eyes on you, I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. And the more I got to know you, the more I liked you. Everything about you is just so wonderful, and perfect. I think you’re the most wonderful person in the world. I’ve tried to tell you so many times. And I know, you like someone else. I know this isn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry. But it’s the truth, and you deserve the truth.”

Pidge didn’t move. She just stared at him. Was she breathing? Lance couldn’t tell. “Um, Pidge? Are you okay?”

She darted away, ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. “Pidge!” Lance exclaimed, moving to the door and turning the knob. It was locked. He heard heavy breathing behind it. “Pidge, please open the door.”

“No,” he heard her shaking voice from the other side of the door. 

“Pidge, come on.” Lance slid down onto the floor, his back against the door. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just couldn’t keep this up any longer, having you around and not telling you. It was killing me. I had to say something or I would’ve exploded.” He waited for some kind of response, but all he heard were her frantic breaths. “You’re not mad at me, are you? I know it seems kind of sudden, but it isn’t sudden for me. I’ve liked you for a really long time. I understand if you don’t like me, too.” The next thing he said was hard to say. “And… I understand if you don’t want to speak to me… just please come out of there. You’re scaring me.”

He listened. The heavy breathing had stopped. A moment passed. Then the door opened, leaving Lance leaning on nothing. He fell on his back with a grunt, and looked up at Pidge, who was standing by where his head now was. “Thank you,” he said weakly. 

Pidge looked down at him, and it took another moment for her to speak. “Do you mean it?”

Lance righted himself and stood up. “What?”

“You said you liked me. Do you mean that?” There was a sense of urgency in her voice, like the fate of the world depended on his answer. 

“Yes. Yes, Pidge, I mean it.”

Her expression changed again, and he wasn’t sure if it was relief or disappointment. “Lance… I don’t like somebody else.”

“What? But last night you said-”

“I was talking about _you_ , you dummy.”

“ _What?_ Seriously? You-” Lance’s head was in a million different places, thinking a million different thoughts. “Wait… you think I’m cute?”

Pidge laughed a little. It was a nervous laugh, the laugh you laughed when you were in a very uncomfortable situation that you would rather like to escape. “Incredibly.” She looked down at the floor, unable to maintain eye contact. “Lance… I like you. A lot.”

Lance’s heart leapt. Was this seriously happening? “Oh my God I can’t believe this is happening! I thought for sure I didn’t have a chance and holy crap, is this real? Am I dreaming?”

Pidge laughed again, and it didn’t sound quite so nervous now. “Shut up, you dork.”

“No, I shan’t! This is- I don’t even know how to react to this, I’ve literally dreamt about this and, now it’s real! This _is_ real, right?”

“Yes, Lance, it’s real. Now shut up.”

“ _Why_ do you want me to shut up?”

And then she kissed him. 

Lance’s brain completely shut off, and in an instant he was kissing her back. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her. He felt her hand on the back of his head, the other gripping his shoulder. He brought one hand to her hip, pulling her closer to him. All there was was this moment. There was only one thought running through his mind; _Holy shit, I’m kissing the hottest former Paladin of Voltron._

The kiss ended far too soon as she pulled away and smiled at him. “So I can do that.”

For the first time in a long time, Lance found himself speechless. He simply stared at the girl in his arms. 

“Do you have any idea,” Pidge said softly, “how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

Lance tried desperately to find words. “That- I- you- that was- we- good. Very good. Mhm.”

Pidge giggled. “Oh no, I broke my boyfriend.”

Lance gasped. “Boyfriend? Boyfriend. Oh my God, boyfriend!”

“And since you are my boyfriend, and we have nowhere to be, we are going to sit on the couch and cuddle, because that is what boyfriends are for.”

“Okay!”

Pidge led him to the sofa in the living room. He plopped himself down, and she sat next to him, and he put his arm around her, and they sat and just looked admiringly at each other. Lance could hardly believe it. Pidge liked him, Pidge was his _girlfriend._ He didn’t say it, not yet, but Lance decided right then and there that he loved this girl Not just liked her. Loved her, with everything he had. He decided nothing in the world was more important to him than this girl, and he would do everything in his power to make her happy. His calling in life was to give her everything she deserved. And that is what he would do. 


End file.
